Maik Tar’s body was sent back to his family in Janloon and buried next to Kehn in the Kaul family plot in the Heaven Awaiting Cemetery. The funeral was not widely known about even within the No Peak clan; many friends and relatives of Iyn Ro would be angry that the Pillar had ended Tar’s exile even in this one final way. Only the immediate members of the Kaul family attended the event. Afterward, Hilo stood for a long time staring at the place where three of his brothers were buried: Lan, Kehn, and now Tar. Wen stood beside him, not making a sound, but tears streamed silently down her face, and it was only because she was weeping that Hilo was unable to. The sense of grief sitting heavy in his chest was not the burning rage that had animated him after Lan’s and Kehn’s murders. Tar’s death felt like the much-delayed end of a tragedy that had happened long ago.
Anden came up on Hilo’s other side and looked down at the casket. His face was drawn with regret, his voice muted and uncertain. “I understand if you blame me, Hilo-jen.”
Hilo didn’t reply at first. Then he said quietly, “Tar was the best, the only one who could’ve done it. I don’t blame you any more than I blame myself.” He put a hand on Anden’s shoulder and leaned against it heavily, so that he nearly sagged against his cousin. “I was angry at you for a long time after you refused to wear jade. Of course you remember. Now, though . . . I’m thankful you’re not a Fist, Andy. I need—” Hilo’s voice faltered. “I need one of my brothers to live.”
CHAPTER
43
Freedom
Niko lay flat on his stomach in the snow, his R5 rifle trained on the road leading into the town. He’d been lying in concealment in whiteand-brown camouflage gear for over three hours. The cold in Udain was assaultively dry; Niko’s throat and tongue felt as coarse as sandpaper, no matter how much ice he sucked on while he waited, and as the sun began to set, the temperature dropped even further. The wind picked up, stinging his eyes and chafing his face. He could no longer feel his extremities, which was a problem considering that he was counting on his stiffly curled fingers to pull the trigger when the time came. When he’d been a student at Kaul Du Academy, Niko had gone on training trips into the densely forested mountains of Kekon, where it could get cold at night, but never cold like this.
To take his mind off the discomfort, he imagined what Janloon would be like today. A pleasant day in autumn, the sun warm over bustling streets, the slightly sweet, spicy smell of the city wafting on the cool breeze coming off the harbor. With the nice weather, his grandmother would be outside cleaning up the flower beds. His mother would be redecorating. The Pillar would be holding meetings on the patio or overseeing the training of Fists on the lawn. Ru would be walking across Jan Royal campus to his next class. Jaya would’ve graduated from the Academy—was she a Finger in the clan now?
You chose this, Niko reminded himself. Most of the time, when he wasn’t freezing and homesick, he was pleased with his life-changing decision. He still had to go where he was sent and do what he was told, same as when he’d been a Finger, but no one treated him differently because of his name. No one asked for his family’s favor, or expected any greater performance from him than usual. He had the same clothes, the same weapons, the same shitty food as the next guy. Anonymity was something he’d never had before, and it was a glorious freedom that suited him. He was finally his own man.
He’d also seen for himself how much more there was to the world outside of Kekon and the clans. All of Niko’s life, the blood feud between the Mountain and No Peak had permeated Kekonese society and every aspect of his existence. Beyond the island, however, few people knew about it or cared. Most foreigners who wore jade never questioned where it came from, just as they never wondered where their food was grown or their clothes were made. The Green Bone clans seemed as irrelevant as Jim Sunto said they were—an isolated cultural anomaly. This was a revelation to Niko, the sort he’d been hoping for when he left Janloon. It confirmed suspicions he’d nursed for some time that the clan had given him only a narrow view of reality.
Next to him, Teije Inno shifted, trying to find a less uncomfortable position. Niko had met Teije and a dozen other Kekonese recruits at GSI’s orientation week at the beginning of last year. He’d recognized the man’s name, if not his face. Even though the Teijes were relatives of the Kauls and part of the No Peak clan, the families rarely socialized. In Kekon, the status difference between Niko and Teije Inno would’ve precluded much of a friendship, but out here they were two Kekonese away from home and surrounded by foreigners, and Niko was grateful for Teije’s presence.